


In the Quiet

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: Spirits and Cocaine [32]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Communication, Declarations Of Love, Exhaustion, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Short & Sweet, ish, my muse is back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 14:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30039981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: Javier leaned back in his chair with a sigh, an acute ache in the small of his back. His chair had stopped being comfortable hours ago and from the look Steve gave him, he was in the same boat as him.
Relationships: Steve Murphy/Javier Peña
Series: Spirits and Cocaine [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100027
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	In the Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Reading

Javier leaned back in his chair with a sigh, an acute ache in the small of his back. His chair had stopped being comfortable hours ago and from the look Steve gave him, he was in the same boat as him. Lifting his palms to rub at his eyes, trying to dislodge the tired, gritty feeling that had overtaken him, he figured it was about time to call it a night.

The office was dim, only the meagre light of their desk lamps slicing through the darkness as the clock slowly tickled its way past two in the morning. Between him and Steve, their desks were piled high with files and a handful of reports Javier had managed to work his way through. The security guards had taken one look at them and given up trying to usher them out, seemed content to let them wile the hours away in relative peace.

Leaning forward, Javier slid his desk drawer opened, couldn’t help but notice the way Steve’s brows furrowed, mouth opening and closing in his peripheral. He wasn’t leaving, not yet anyway, and instead slid two grimy glasses out and a half empty bottle of whiskey, earning himself a fond smile from his partner.

Twisting open the bottle, he poured a generous amount into one of the glasses and held it out to Steve, who arched an eyebrow at him, “we’re working Javi.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” he pointed out calmly. “Nobody is fucking working, least of all us.”

His partner stared at him for a long moment, eyes conflicted as Javi waited him out until finally, finally, he relented with sigh. Sliding away the file in front of him, he reached for the glass and Javier swallowed as their fingers touched briefly, finding space between each other to grip it, before pulling away.

Javier watched, perhaps a little too intently, as Steve brought the glass to just beneath his nose, eyes fluttering closed on a gentle inhale. It wasn’t like it was the good stuff, Javi didn’t drink the garbage found down the street but he didn’t blow his money on anything high end. Still, Steve looked like man falling into temptation as he brough the rim to his lips, taking little more then a sip of the ember liquid.

Shaking his head, Javier focused on pouring his own glass, ignored the slightest tremble in his fingers. He wondered, not for the first time, why Steve was still there, why he hadn’t packed up with the rest at six o’clock sharp and headed home. No, instead Javi had kept one eye on his work and one on Steve as the sun slowly set and the embassy descended into relative silence. 

They did speak, pointed out discrepancies and asked questions when something wasn’t quite added up. Javier had even translated an entire report while Steve listened, face scrunched up as he tried to follow along despite his injected sidenotes. The thing was, Javier knew Steve’s work had dried up by the time they’d hit eleven and he was still there.

Taking a deep gulp of whiskey, Javier closed his eyes against the burn, tongue pressed firmly against the roof of his mouth as he swallowed, head tilting back as he leaned back in his chair. When he peeled back his eyes, it was to find Steve staring at him, impossibly blue eyes fixed on his face, following the line of his throat.

Warmth sparked in his belly, spread through his abdomen and neither of them were really the type to play at innocence so Javi looked right back, let his lips twitch into an almost smile, that was instantly mirrored by Steve. Still, he couldn’t help but notice, didn’t want to ignore the dark circles under his eyes, the exhaustion dragging at his eyelids and he really should have gone home long before now.

“Steve-”

Something in his tone must have given away his worry, maybe in his face because Steve’s expression shuttered, “don’t.”

Javier sighed, felt like he’d been doing a lot of that lately, ran a hand over his face, “you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I have,” he replied tersely, gaze sliding away. “leave it be Javi.”

He could, was used to pretending nothing was amiss, indulging the demons of the people around him, but he didn’t want to. Javier didn’t like seeing him like this, hated the way his tired eyes made his heart ache, hated the misery that sometimes plastered itself to his face, drowned in the way Steve’s anger and loss felt like a personal failure.

He shouldn’t be so invested. It wasn’t healthy, was one step in a long line that would lead to his own heartbreak. Yet, he’d never been very good at controlling himself when it came to Steve, when it came to his happiness.

So, despite the warning in his partner’s stiff posture, despite the way his hand clenched around the glass, Javier tried anyway, “if this is about Connie...”

“It’s not.”

Javier pursed his lips, wondered if Steve had taken to lying to him. He knew Steve didn’t like to spend time in his empty apartment, seemed to avoid it like the plague. In fact, he’d spent six out of the seven nights of the week curled up on Javi’s couch, and that would explain why he hadn’t gone home at the end of the day.

He inquired tentatively, a little unsure how to go about it, “she still calls doesn’t she?”

“Javi stop,” Steve squeezed his eyes closed. “I don’t want to talk about my wife.”

Silence descended between them and Javier winced. Steve was looking down at his drink now, brought it to his lips after a moment and downed half the glass. Still avoiding his gaze, Steve reached for the bottle and Javi didn’t have the heart to stop him.

Tried to mend it, just a little, muttering, “sorry.”

Steve shook his head as he filled the glass to the brim, leaving barely a quarter left in the bottle, “don’t be…I’m sorry, I’ve just been on edge.”

This Javi was familiar with, had startled awake to Steve’s footsteps in his living room, the flicking of the light. Nightmares, though far quieter ones then he himself endured, had spent hours listening to his partner’s form moving around in the dark, waiting for him to drift back to sleep.

“The nightmares have been getting worse,” not a question, an observation.

Steve looked up sharply at the comment, jaw working and Javier wondered what his nightmares were about, wondered if he relived the loss of his partner, if the guilt of the innocent killed getting Poison ate him alive. Wondered if it was more personal, if his nightmares featured Connie and Olivia…or if Javi haunted his dreams as much as Steve haunted his.

“No,” he murmured, softly. “They haven’t.”

Javier looked at him, took in the uncertainty lurking in the depths of his eyes, the way his body was hunched forward just a little, recognized the desperation in the way his hands trembled subtly around the too full glass.

He swallowed thickly, felt his heart pound behind his ribcage as he stared at Steve, who looked right back with such vulnerability, and he felt his breath leave him in a hard rush. He’d recognize this anywhere, saw it in the mirror in the mornings, saw it in the way he’d reach for Steve in friendly…lingering touches, saw it in the way he yearned like a man with nothing else to love, saw it reflected in Steve’s eyes now in the harsh light of their desk lamps.

Javi nodded slowly, stomach twisting, heart throbbing, “yeah?”

Steve’s lips quirked up in the corners, a fearful little thing, “yeah.”

The only confirmation he needed.

A revelation, sitting heavy as an anchor between them, spoken in hushed tones late at night. It was strange, having gone so long with only this wordless affection, careful certainty that it couldn’t…shouldn’t be shared…and to know it was.

They sat in silence for a long time, sipping steadily from their glasses until only the dredges remained. Without a word shared between them, they flicked off the lamps and gathered their coats, left the office behind and simply stayed by each other’s side, a new kind of ease between them.


End file.
